Presumptuous
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: Post-ep for s8ep6. Ruth asked Harry out for a drink and he made sure they got to have it.
1. Chapter 1

**Presumptuous**

It took Harry a moment to check his own thinking. Did he need to be on the Grid to deal with Tariq's discovery that the Nightingale money had been transferred to Pakistan? Did he just want to leave so he and Ruth could get a drink together? Was his personal desire to spend time with her outside of work clouding his judgment for both their jobs?

Tariq solved the problem for him. "It'll take me ages to trace this, Harry. I don't think there's anything else we can do tonight. Just wanted to make sure you know," the young man explained.

But it was Ruth's hand giving a soft squeeze on his shoulder that really decided it. "Let's go, Harry," she said quietly, perhaps too quiet for even Tariq to hear.

With a stiff nod, Harry left their tech genius to his task and led Ruth out of the pods, out of Thames House, and into the night. "Anywhere in particular you'd like to go?" he asked.

She gave him a small smile. "Wherever I can have a glass of cold sauvignon blanc and we can sit at a table and not be bothered by anyone."

"I know just the place." Harry offered his arm to her, which she took. They walked a few blocks to a small basement bar.

It was dark and hazy, full of mahogany and leather and the smell of expensive whiskey. The waiters and bartenders all wore silk waistcoats. Ruth couldn't tell if the place was very posh or just very cool. Either way, it wasn't the sort of place she felt at all comfortable. But she'd asked Harry for a drink and a drink they would have. It didn't much matter where.

They sat down at a small table in the back. Harry pulled her chair out for her, and Ruth was distinctly reminded of the last time he'd done that. It had been under much different circumstances and in a much different setting, but he was a gentleman now as he was then.

A waiter came by to offer menus, but Harry simply ordered a glass of cold sauvignon blanc for Ruth and a glass of top shelf whiskey for himself. Their drinks arrived a minute later.

"Shall we have a toast? Seems rather odd not to," Ruth offered.

He held his glass. "Of course. To…"

"To Queen and country and to peace in our times," she finished for him.

Harry chuckled lightly. "Yes. Cheers, Ruth."

"Cheers, Harry," she replied, clinking her glass with his and taking a sip of her wine.

"That was probably a more appropriate toast than the one I had in mind," he said after his own sip of whiskey.

"Oh? And what were you going to toast to?"

"To you. To us. Having a drink. For me, that is certainly something worth celebrating." Harry watched carefully as she reacted to his words. He had expected that she would blush and avert her eyes from him. But she surprised him. She took another sip of wine but kept her gaze fixed on him. Her face was suddenly inscrutable to him. When she didn't respond, he decided to take a slightly more direct approach. "I was surprised you asked me for a drink," he ventured.

"Were you?"

"Yes. But I'm very glad you did. After the week we've had, it's rather nice to get out of the office, particularly with such lovely company."

Ruth frowned, her brow furrowing with concern and concentration the way it always did when she was trying to work up to say something. "I didn't ask just to get you out of the office. Though I agree, it is good to get out after…everything."

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Why did you ask me for a drink, Ruth?" he asked softly, almost afraid of her answer.

"I needed a drink. And I wanted to get one. With you." She smiled. "You know the last time we had a drink, just you and I alone in public?"

"Yes, I do. And since that night, Ruth, I've replayed every single moment over in my head. When you were right next to me but I couldn't seem to reach you, and then when you were very far away and I was missing you so terribly. And I know with all that's happened in the years in between, I don't expect we can pick up from where we left off, not since I know you don't want that."

"What makes you think I don't want that?" she interrupted in a quiet voice.

She had flustered him. Few people had that power over Harry Pearce. Ruth Evershed had it in spades. "Well since…George and…everything. I know you came back to Five because of Jo and because I wanted her to convince you that we need you—which we do—and because you're uniquely suited the job but I know you're only here because you don't have anywhere else to go. And I have to confess that I'm not in the least bit bothered by that. I know it's horrible of me to say, but I need you here, Ruth. I don't think I could ever let you go now that I've got you back."

"You mean that as Section Head, of course," Ruth teased lightly.

"No. I mean me. I know it's not at all fair and I won't blame you if you want to throw that wine in my face for it."

Ruth stayed quiet for a moment, taking another sip of her wine and not, as Harry suggested, throwing it in his face. His hand was resting on the table in front of her. She put down her glass and took his big, weathered hand in both of hers. She traced her thumbs over the back of his hand, focusing on how it looked and felt to touch him like this. She could sense Harry's eyes on her, as she often did, but she knew she needed to allow herself a moment to find the words and not stumble through this like she seemed to do with everything else. And Harry, to his eternal credit, didn't rush her. Finally, she looked up at him. His honey-hazel eyes were shining with awe at her. "Harry, even if I did have anywhere else I could go, I'd want to be right here. This is where I belong. At Five and…and with you. Through everything that's happened since we shared a bottle of white burgundy over dinner, I've wanted to hate you and blame you for everything, but I just couldn't. Even if I should have blamed you for all of it. For being the reason I left everything I know and love to run all over the world, constantly terrified of what I'd find if I looked over my shoulder. For George and Nico and…" She trailed off to collect herself. He opened his mouth to say something but she squeezed his hand and continued before he could. "I always knew, even when I was happy in Cyprus with my family, I always knew it wasn't meant to last. I never imagined anything a year ahead, let alone growing old there. Not like I…" She stopped herself before she said too much.

"Even if you don't blame for all the pain you've endured, I am truly, deeply sorry to have had a hand in causing it," he said, bringing his free hand to cover hers.

"I actually want to thank you."

"Thank me?"

"You let me come home. In every sense. I know you couldn't stop my mother from selling my house, but you kept my cats and you got me back my identity and my job. And you've always been right there for me. Even when I sometimes wished you weren't. You have always had your arms open for me to fall into. I know I didn't always take you up on the offer, but just knowing you were there…that you are there…I can't possibly tell you what that means, Harry." Ruth exhaled, finally having got out all the words she knew she needed to say.

"I will always have my arms open to you, Ruth."

"I know."

They fell silent. Neither wanted to break the moment, to move their hands or to blink. It was Ruth who did eventually free one hand so she could drink the last bit of her wine. Harry did the same to finish off his whiskey.

A waiter came by to take their empty glasses. "Another round?"

Harry looked at Ruth, who shook her head. He handed over his credit card. "I'll just settle the bill and drive you home," he told her.

She sighed, "I do hate that little flat. I miss having all my things. I haven't had a chance to make it my own yet."

"It'll take a bit of time. You haven't been back very long," he replied understandingly.

Ruth caught her bottom lip in her teeth, chewing on it pensively, watching Harry sign his name to the check and putting his card back in his wallet.

"Yes?" he asked, recognizing that look on her face.

They had stood and made their way to the door, putting on their coats as they went. Ruth blurted, "Would it be too terribly presumptuous of me to ask if you'd take me to your house?"

Harry's heart skipped about three beats in his chest. He swallowed hard before taking Ruth's hand in his as they walked out into the chilly night air. "No, Ruth, I think that's just presumptuous enough."


	2. Chapter 2

Harry parked his car in the front drive of his house and felt his whole body vibrate in nervous anticipation. "Ruth, I can take you home. We don't…"

She put her hand on his to silence him. "I was presumptuous enough to ask you to bring me here, now I'm going to be even more presumptuous to ask you to take me inside, and we can just go from there, alright?" She had waited for him long enough. She'd mustered the courage to tell him everything she wanted to say, and now it was time for them to do everything they'd longed for all these years.

He reveled in the feeling of her small hand in his large one. He gave it a squeeze before getting out of his car and going around to open her door. He offered his hand to help her out and suddenly they were standing rather close. Close enough for Harry to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Ruth was looking at him with those big blue eyes, expectant. "Inside," he said, clearing his throat and refocusing his attention.

Ruth just nodded and kept hold of his hand as they went to the door, into the house, and hung up their coats inside. She looked around, noticing all the impersonal touches that made it clear Harry didn't get to spend much time here. She was sure she would be able to find plenty of little things that indicated that this was indeed the home of Harry Pearce, things she knew about him that she'd recognize. But she wasn't going to waste her time looking around now. She hoped she'd have the opportunity eventually; now, however, wasn't the night for it.

Harry watched her gaze around and realized that finally, Ruth Evershed was in his home. She was real and she was here, and it was better than he'd dreamed. And he certainly had dreamed of this. "Ruth," he murmured, his voice gravelly with desire.

She turned to face him and was immediately surprised by his fiery kiss. It didn't take her more than an moment to settle in, to respond with equal vigor. It had been far too long since she'd felt his lips on hers, his soft, full, pouty, beautiful lips on hers. Their last kiss had been just that—a last kiss. It had been full of love and loss and sorrow and regret. Now, they could kiss with reckless abandon, to the promise of finally coming together, finally letting their passion and adoration for one another be expressed.

He pulled her close, his enormous hands roaming over her back. Ruth threw her arms around his neck and leaned in, her tongue tracing the line of those gorgeous lips she loved so well. Harry opened his mouth to her and allowed his hands to travel down to her bum, grasping and massaging her perfectly firm flesh. He was rewarded by a throaty moan from her, and she pressed even closer to him, her breasts pillowing against his chest and her abdomen brushing against his growing arousal.

Harry began stumbling backwards toward the stairs, unwilling to break their kiss or indeed let his hands stray from where they were currently deliciously placed. He led her up, going slowly, pausing to lean against the wall and to just concentrate on snogging her every few steps. But at last they made it into his bedroom.

He wasted no time undoing the clasp and zip of her skirt so it would fall to her feet. She got to work loosening his tie and undoing the buttons of his shirt. When he lifted her blouse, they had to break their kiss.

Ruth was left in nothing but her undergarments and Harry was eager to continue on, but she backed away for a moment. Breathing heavily, she asked, "Could you turn the light on?"

Harry frowned in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes, after dreaming and fantasizing about this for so long, I'd rather like it if we could see each other. I don't want to hide away in the dark with you," she confessed.

"You fantasized about me?" Though his face was hidden in shadow, Harry's smile was evident in his voice.

Ruth felt herself blush. "Of course I have. Haven't you fantasized about me?"

"Since the moment we met, actually. I just didn't think you'd…I'm not a young man, Ruth," he told her apologetically.

She smiled at him, trying not to laugh; she wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea. "Modesty doesn't suit you, Harry. Now would you please turn on the lights and let me take that shirt off you?"

Harry did exactly as she asked. The overhead light illuminated everything, causing them to blink in the brightness. But now Harry was quite pleased at her request. He could see every little bit of her now. "Christ, you're beautiful," he breathed.

A lovely pink blush crept over Ruth's cheeks. She didn't meet his eyes, just focused intently on pushing his shirt off him and pulling his vest over his head and unbuckling his belt. Harry placed his hands gently on her waist and backed her onto the bed. She sat down and looked up at him as he unclasped her bra, tossing it to join the pile of their clothes. He swallowed hard as her breasts were revealed to him. Full and supple and beautiful. But before he could contemplate his desire to bury his face in them, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her knickers to pull them down, forcing her to shift to allow him to remove them. She did the same with his shorts. Harry couldn't help but smirk with pride to see her eyes darken with desire as his erection sprang forth.

"Lie back," he instructed softly, climbing onto the bed and hovering above her naked body. He leaned in, kissing her deeply. This kiss was less hurried than before. Their lips moved together languidly. But Harry needed to taste her. Having her here, he needed all of her, every single bit. He moved his kisses down her jaw to her neck, smiling against her skin as she moaned with want.

Ruth felt her whole body alight with electric desire. The feel of his lips and hands caressing her was more than she had ever imagined. His big hands covered her breasts, squeezing them, rolling her nipples between his fingers, making her arch against him and gasp at the tingling she felt all through her body. His hand moved lower, skimming over her belly and landing between her legs. As he swirled his tongue over her breast, his fingers traced her folds, making her even wetter. He bit and sucked on her breast and slipped one finger inside her. "God, Harry," she groaned.

Harry learned her body through his explorations, what she liked, what made her shiver with desire and cry out his name. He added a second thick finger to thrust inside her, feeling her flutter around him. Harry moved his mouth to her other breast, determined to leave love bites all over her chest, where only she would ever see. He knew better than to leave marks on her neck or anywhere remotely visible. But mark her he would. For now, at long last, Ruth was all his.

He removed his fingers from her, chuckling at the way she whined in disappointment. He looked into her hooded eyes as he licked his hand clean. "You are absolutely delicious," he murmured before kissing down her stomach and shifting down the bed to settle between her legs.

Ruth braced herself for what she knew was about to happen, practically writhing in anticipation. And the onslaught began. His lips sucked her hard, his tongue lapping up her juices, caressing her and probing her in exactly the way she needed him. It didn't take more than a minute for her to crash over the edge. Her thighs tightened around his ears as her back arched off the bed. And before she could even come down from her aftershocks, his fingers were back inside her, three this time. He curled them inside her, making her scream out his name, shuddering in ecstasy again.

With a proud grin, Harry slowed his movements, allowing her to rest. He kissed and nipped his way back up her body. "Ruth, my Ruth," he murmured into her skin.

She reached blindly toward him, tangling her fingers in his hair to keep him anchored to her, desperate that he never pull away and never stop touching her. "Yes, Harry, I'm yours. All yours. Only yours," she vowed, pulling him up to kiss her lips again.

Ruth wrapped her legs around him, encouraging him to take her. He broke their kiss so he could line himself up at her entrance. He pushed into her slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length. When she shifted her hips with a tiny moan, he began to move, setting a steady pace to thrust into her over and over.

Harry was astounded by how receptive and passionate and wanton she was. He would have never imagined that his Ruth, always such a timid deer, afraid of gossip and hurt feelings, would ever be so open and uninhibited in bed. A cruel thought flitted through his mind that perhaps this was the effect of her Cypriot 'husband' to awaken this sexual desire in her. But no, he dispelled that idea immediately. This was his Ruth. Not George's Ruth. She was Harry's alone. Now and always. He believed her when she had moaned 'I'm yours.' He believed her when she thanked him for always having his arms open to her, for bringing her home. This was home, here, cradled between her legs, pushing into her again and again and again, feeling her clench around his throbbing cock. Nothing would ever rival the sensation of being inside her as she orgasmed, screaming his name and digging her nails into his shoulders as he spilled himself inside her, utterly spent.

He rolled off her, breathing heavily. Ruth collapsed against the pillows, equally exhausted. His hand searched for hers, taking hold of her. She panted, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding, a caged bird flapping its wings inside her chest. And for the first time, she felt beautifully free. "That was…something," she said with a voice hoarse from continuous moans and screams of pleasure.

"Something good, I hope," he replied.

She rolled over to rest her cheek on his chest. "Something wonderful," she assured him.

Harry wasn't sure he'd ever felt happier than he did in that moment. He dozed off, his hand trailing over her bare back and resting on the curve of her bum.

Ruth didn't speak again, allowing him to rest. But she couldn't help letting her fingers travel over his body, tracing every scar that littered his shoulders and arms and chest and belly. More than one bullet wound, far too many stabbings, a fair number of burns and other things she couldn't decipher. She made a mental note to ask him to tell her the story of each and every one. Perhaps years ago, that would have terrified her. But nothing much scared her anymore, least of all Harry. Oh, how she'd missed him. In all the years of her exile, she had desperately longed for exactly this. To be home in Harry's arms, to one day share his bed and feel his love. She wrapped her arm around his waist and hugged him tightly, needing to be close to him.

Despite his quiet snores, she felt very awake. Her gaze continued to travel over his body, so strong and solid. He had a comforting bulk about him that she now knew could be leveraged with sexual prowess she'd only ever imagined from him. Her eyes traveled over the swell of his middle-aged and well-fed belly, and she smiled, appreciating the softness she found there, finding it a very comforting contrast to the hardness of the rest of him. Since they hadn't bothered to pull down the bedsheets, she had a view of his entire body and at last brought her focus to his cock resting against his thigh. Ruth unconsciously licked her lips as she thought of how skilled, how big and hard and perfect it was. And she wanted more.

Ruth shifted slightly out of his embrace to press soft kisses to his neck and down his chest and belly before taking him in her hand to gently stroke him. A slight twitch against her palm made her grin wickedly. She sat up and settled between his legs, kissing and licking his thighs to wake him up, still pumping him gently with her hand.

Harry blinked awake with a groan, the sensations from his lower half easing him to consciousness. He lifted his head slightly to see what she was doing. "Ruth," he growled, sleepy eyes shining dark with desire.

"Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask for more, Harry? I've had a taste of you now and I'm afraid I might be insatiable," she said cheekily.

He was about to comment on her choice of terms, claiming to have already had a 'taste' of him. But she beat him to the punchline, so to speak. She leaned down and took his semi-erect cock into her mouth. Harry moaned loudly, his head falling back onto the bed, overcome by the shocking skill of her lips and tongue and _Christ_ what was she doing? Harry propped himself up on his elbows to see his now completely hard length disappear into her mouth. "Jesus, Ruth!" Her passion and eagerness absolutely blew him away, as it were. And if she didn't slow down, he wasn't going to last for another round.

Harry grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her off him. "Turn around," he growled.

Ruth grinned in erotic desire, knowing she'd gotten her message across, that she was no delicate creature he needed to protect, not here. She loved him for his gentleness and kindness, certainly, but she also loved him for his power and strength. So when he grabbed her hips, angling her up the way he wanted her as she waited on all fours in front of him, and a jolt of excitement rocked her core.

Downstairs, Harry had gotten to paw at her bum, feel the flesh under her skirt beneath his hands. But now, seeing her bared to him, feeling her skin, it was almost more than he could take. The width of her hips and the soft flesh moving under his massaging grasp all made him groan with desire. He rubbed his erection against her, spreading her wetness and teasing her until she practically begged him to take her. Then, unable to wait an instant longer, Harry plunged into her heat, pounding into her from behind.

Ruth grabbed the bedsheets in her fists as she felt him deep inside her, hitting the exact spot where she needed him. She could barely hold herself up, but she didn't really need to. Harry's grip on her hips was practically bruising. He was unhinged, taking her hard and fast and rough, and she loved every second of it.

Harry could barely hold off his climax, but he waited until she was screaming his name again when she reached around and stroked her to completion. Her walls clenched his cock so hard, he tumbled over the edge with her in a few final thrusts.

They fell into a tangled heap together. Ruth could barely catch her breath, but she told him, "Christ, Harry, you're incredible."

"If I weren't such a tired old sod, I'd take you like that all night. But as it is, I'm afraid I'm totally spent."

She turned her head to kiss whatever part of his body was within reach—his arm, it turned out. "I already woke you once. I don't think I could manage it again either," she admitted.

Harry groaned as he shifted, this time from pain and exhaustion rather than arousal, but he needed to pull her into his embrace. "My knee is going to be murder in the morning, but that is a price I'll pay a thousand times over to have you," he murmured, pressing kisses to her sweaty hair.

"Next time we'll find more comfortable ways," she promised.

"Next time?"

"Harry, I have waited years for you. You can't think I'll give you up after just one night."

"Well, I didn't want to be presumptuous," he teased.

She laughed lightly and kissed his chest. They remained quiet for a little while, their pounding hearts settling back to a normal rate.

Harry broke the silence. "Ruth?"

"Hmm?"

"I know I drove you here, but I don't think I can manage to get up. If you'd like to go home, I'll pay for your cab."

Ruth frowned and tightened her embrace around him possessively. "I'm home here in your arms. And I don't care if it is presumptuous, I'm going to stay right here all night."

"I hoped you'd say that," he whispered. "But let's clean up just a bit and actually get into the bed, eh?"

"I suppose you're right. We've got Sarah Caulfield and Nightingale money in Pakistan waiting for us tomorrow. We'd best get some sleep."

Harry turned out the light at last and they settled into bed, neither bothering to put anything on. Ruth returned to her new favorite place in Harry's embrace. She leaned up to kiss him goodnight.

She hummed against his lips. "My Harry, my wonderful spook."

He chuckled as she snuggled against his chest. "Oh my Ruth, my presumptuous love," he murmured as they drifted off to sleep.


End file.
